A New Power
by Dawnheart98
Summary: Many moons after the Clans have first been firmly established, life continues smoothly. Soon, the world of the Clans will turn upside down with a new, unknown force. Only five young cats have the power to save the Clans from destruction. Can they do it?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Rocky's panted in exhaustion, then tried to hold it in. His heart burned from lack of oxygen. He found shelter under a large bush, but didn't let himself breath. He was afraid he would be too loud—and would be caught.

The sky was pitch black. The moon shone brightly but it wasn't enough for Rocky. He couldn't see as much as he would have liked. He could only rely on his sense of smell—and his luck. Allowing himself silent, shallow breathes, Rocky pricked his ears. Did he hear footsteps? Or was it just his imagination overreacting? Suddenly he heard a loud crunch. Rocky's body tensed, and he made his breathing even shallower, until he almost couldn't breathe.

A loud yowl was heard and Rocky almost fainted in fear. Loud, pounding pawsteps drew near, and Rocky heard the strong heartbeat of a predator reading himself for the kill. Then, suddenly, it exploded into him, with flashing eyes and outstretched gleaming claws. Rocky was the prey!

He sprang away, but not without a price. A deep gash ran down his leg. Shrieking with fury and terror, Rocky tumbled away, crashing through the undergrowth. The night had suddenly been filled with yowling, screeching cats. The gleam of claws, and the clink of bared teeth filled Rocky's ears. Fur flew, and blood splattered. Rocky tried to get up but he was frozen in fear, watching the dreaded battle unfurl before his eyes. Then, suddenly, someone let out a warning yowl. Suddenly, the claws of a pouncing cat were all Rocky could see.

Rocky's eyes flew open, and he yowled in terror. After a few moments of deadly silence, Rocky breathed a small sigh of relief, then winced. It was only a dream—no, a nightmare. Rocky got up, but cringed in pain. Had he slept in such an uncomfortable position? The young cat glanced at himself, squinting in the dark. Rocky sniffed the tangy smell of blood. His heart skipped a beat as he realized it was _his _blood. The ginger tom limped to the nearest window so he get some moonlight to see by. He bristled when he saw a deep, raw gash down his leg. After sniffing it gently, he gave it a cautious lick. Shaking his fur, Rocky limped toward the cat door. He would not be able to sleep now. Rocky wondered what to do about his gash. Would his humans help him? Only in the morning, Rocky realized. Grunting with effort, Rocky pushed his way through the door. The moonlight shone brightly. Rocky breathed in the clean air. He surveyed his garden, and then leapt down. His wounded leg buckled at the last minute, and he landed awkwardly and was painfully reminded of his injury. What was he even doing? He should be resting—or waking up his housefolk. Grumbling to himself, Rocky crawled toward the small crack in the strong white fence. It was just small enough for him to squeeze through. His housefolk hadn't discovered it yet and he hoped they wouldn't fix it anytime soon. It was very useful for sneaking out.

Rocky slipped through the opening, careful to keep his wounded leg as close to the ground as possible. Rocky was beginning to think he was going crazy. Going out in to the woods at night with a wounded leg? Rocky wondered if he really believed in the rumors Prince told. Prince was a fluffy white cat with just as much attitude as he had fur. Prince claimed to know the secrets of the forest cats, but Rocky really doubted it. Would such a lazy cat venture into the forest?

Rocky thought about another friend, George. He had been great fun, just as Prince was despite his kinks. Then one day George went to the vet, and came back much plumper and lazier then he had before. Rocky and Prince pondered day and night, until finally Prince came up with the perfect solution. George fell of the roof of a tall building and was never the same again. Rocky shivered. He wondered if his daring escapade was even worse than falling off a roof. It seemed going even fat lazy George had enough sense to not to go into the forest.

Rocky bristled as he walked deeper into the forest. At least the lazy cat had more sense than him. As scared as he was beginning to become, something urged Rocky on. Rocky didn't know what it was. All his dreams about the forest were terrifying. Prince's accounts of the forest included bloodthirsty cats who ate live rabbits for dinner—bones and all. Maybe the knowledge of Prince's stories had seeped into his dreams. But they were just dreams, right? How could anything happen to him in real life? The cats in his dreams could do nothing to him. Rocky sighed in defeat. He was not convincing himself. Puffing up his chest, Rocky padded forward, one faltering step at a time.

Suddenly, leaves rustled behind Rocky. Rocky bristled, pricking his ears, crouching low to the ground. How could something have come from behind him? Rocky hoped it was a bird. He had never caught one before, but he had practiced in his garden—on Prince. Rocky slowly turned around, careful to place his feet as quietly as he could. Crouching lower to the ground, Rocky padded forward, proud at how smoothly his muscles adjusted. Rocky was about to leap when something leaped out in front of him. It crashed into him with full force. Rocky screeched out loud, only to be silenced by a mouthful of fur. As Rocky crashed into the shrubbery, his mind screaming with pain from his leg wound. Rocky struggled and squirmed, but his attacker kept a firm hold. Rocky felt thorn-sharp claws pricking his neck fur. Rocky thought fast. This was probably a forest cat. Not that he wanted to believe Prince, but he had to, when evidence was right before his eyes.

His attacker pressed Rocky's face into the ground, and Rocky shut his eyes tightly. Well, he would be able to see his attacker if his plan worked. Sending a silent prayer, Rocky flipped over on his back, with his belly fur exposed. It was a big risk—the forest cat would be a much better fighter then him, no matter how much he practice-sparred with Prince. Not even a second later, Rocky began fiercely clawing his opponent's belly. Yowling, the other cat leapt off. The power of the jump crushed the breath out of Rocky, but it was for a split second. His attacker had landed in a perfect crouch position, blood spilling into a pool on the ground. The other cat hissed threateningly, but Rocky's eyes were only on the pool of blood under the wild cat. _Did I do that? _Rocky was terrified—of the forest cat, and himself. The forest cat was a better fighter then Rocky could have ever imagined, but so was he! Rocky struggled to get up. He felt his leg give way, but he forced his other three legs to stand strong. He would not show any weakness to this forest cat, in case it got any other ideas.

Rocky finally got a good look at his attacker. It was a large dark brown kitten, about the same age as Rocky, despite his enormous size. It was a tomcat. He smelt of the wild forest beyond. Rocky shivered. He stood, still bristling till he was twice his normal size.

"Calm down, kitty, don't attract any more attention."

Rocky knew if his fur stood out anymore it would probably fall off. Rocky kept him under a threatening glare.

"I'll fight you if I have to!" Rocky growled, wondering if he could really keep his word.

The tom leapt up, bristling. "Was that a challenge?"

"Hold up!" meowed another unfamiliar voice.

Rocky whipped around to see another kitten crawl out of the bushes. This was a large silver tabby tom. His fur was still kit-soft, but Rocky could see the hard muscle rippling under the soft fur. The exact same as the other tom that had attacked him earlier. A new wave of fear washed over Rocky. Could he really fight _two _forest cats? Rocky was suddenly sure this was his last walk in the forest. He might not make it back home. He silently sent goodbyes to his housefolk and Prince. _Goodbye, world._

"Flintpaw!" snarled the brown tom. "Don't bother me! Let me finish this!"

"Calm down, Hawkpaw!" mewed the gray kitten. "It's only a kittypet!"

_Kittypet? _Rocky then realized the Flint-something was referring to him. _He _was the kittypet. _… What was a kittypet?_

"You put up quite a fight!" the silver tom exclaimed, now addressing Rocky. He had bright dark green eyes. His sliver fur gleamed in the moonlight.

"I could have finished him!" snarled the brown tom.

The gray kitten sat down closer to Rocky. Rocky wondered whether to trust either of them. The gray kitten _did _seem a lot friendlier, though. "I'm Flintpaw!" he mewed. "And the stupid furball over there is Hawkpaw." Hawkpaw spat at the last comment. "What's your name?" Flintpaw continued as if Hawkpaw hadn't reacted.

Rocky clenched his jaws, wondering whether to answer. "Rocky," he finally allowed.

"Rocky." Flintpaw said thoughtfully. "Interesting!"

"So, what _are _you doing out here, kitty?" the brown kitten, Hawkpaw, sneered. "You know, the forest is too dangerous for a soft kittypet like you."

"But look at that wound, Hawkpaw!" Flintpaw exclaimed. "He must have been fighting ShadowClan to get something like that!"

Hawkpaw narrowed his gleaming green eyes. "Why would a kittypet fight ShadowClan?" he growled suspiciously.

"Maybe he's an evil genius trying to take over," Flintpaw suggested.

"It looks fishy to me," Hawkpaw muttered.

"Leave that to RiverClan!" Flintpaw yowled.

All the while, Rocky stood silently, surveying the two forest cats. From the conversation he was hearing, they sounded like normal cats—if not slightly crazy.

"RiverClan?" Rocky spoke up. "ShadowClan?"

Hawkpaw snorted. "See, he's completely clueless!"

Flintpaw turned toward Rocky. "Don't tell me you haven't heard of the four warrior Clans!"

"He won't tell you, but it won't change the fact that he doesn't know," Hawkpaw muttered, loud enough for all of them to hear.

"We are from ThunderClan, and we're training to be warriors." Flintpaw explained. "The other three Clans always try to steal our prey, so as warriors, we defend what's rightfully ours!" Flintpaw paused to spit at the ground. "It's honestly the best job in the world!"

Hawkpaw pricked his ears. "Flintpaw, it's Redstar and Snowheart!" He turned toward Rocky. "You'd better get out of here, kitty."

"They won't be happy to find you on our territory!" Flintpaw hissed in warning.

"Or find us happily chatting with an intruder!" Hawkpaw hissed. He gave Rocky a sharp nudge. "Get out of here!"

Rocky opened his jaws to ask another question, but clinked them shut at Hawkpaw's threatening glare. He whipped around, and dashed three tail lengths away before a loud yowl split the air.

"Stop!"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Rocky whipped around, and dashed three tail lengths away before a loud yowl split the air.

"Stop!"

Rocky froze at the commanding snarl. Turning slowly, Rocky saw a small red-brown tom trot majestically out of a bush, his thick tail streaming behind him. He was followed by a much larger snowy white tom with dark blue eyes.

"Redstar!" Flintpaw squeaked, crushing himself to the floor in a respectful crouch. Hawkpaw was already in the same position.

"Get down!" Hawkpaw hissed under his breath. Rocky hastily ducked down.

"Get up, all of you!" commanded the small red cat, Redstar.

Hawkpaw and Flintpaw jerked up immediately. Rocky get up more slowly, cringing at the pain in his hind leg, and in fear.

"Hawkpaw, you defending our territory well!" Redstar praised. Hawkpaw bowed his head in modesty, but Rocky saw the proud gleam in his eyes. "It was right of you to stop attacking him," Redstar went on. Hawkpaw's eyes went dull again, and narrowed in defeat.

"Flintpaw!" the large white tom spoke now. "As my apprentice, I expect you to help your Clanmates!"

Flintpaw ducked his head in shame.

"But he had an injury, Snowheart!" he squeaked, as if not sure is he should speak.

"You are right." The white tom, Snowheart, bent closer to Rocky, sniffing him curiously, then sniffing his leg. He turned back to Redstar. "This is a real warrior wound."

Redstar nodded. "I know." He turned to Rocky. "I just can't figure out how he could have gotten it."

"Should we ask him?" the white tom asked, his whiskers twitching.

Redstar looked at Rocky expectantly. Rocky opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

"He's in shock," Snowheart quickly diagnosed. He glanced at Redstar, a silent question burning in his eyes. Redstar gave the slightest of nods before turning to Rocky.

"I've seen you before on many patrols," Redstar said in a deep meow. "I see you have now finally had the courage to step into the forest—but with a serious wound." Redstar ended in a curious tone. "I won't ask how you got that wound now. But do you have someone to treat it?"

Rocky opened his mouth, willing his mind to form the words. "I-I don't know," Rocky stammered. Redstar now looked thoughtful.

"We are warriors of ThunderClan, as young Flintpaw correctly told you." Flintpaw shuffled his paws in embarrassment under Redstar's and Snowheart's gaze. "We hunt for our own food and defend our territory when needed."

Suddenly all the Clan cats pricked their ears and become totally silent. Rocky wondered what it was all about but kept his mouth shut. He pricked his ears, trying to hear what the Clan cats had heard. Was it an enemy warrior? Was it another animal? Redstar looked back at Rocky, leaning down till he was at eye level with Rocky. "I want to offer you a place in our Clan."

"Redstar offers you only training," Snowheart cut in. "There is no guarantee that you would adjust to our lifestyle. It may prove too difficult for you to handle. You are used to softness after all."

The large white tom's words stung Rocky. "Why offer me a chance then?" he rasped.

Redstar sighed. "All I can do is show you another path your life can take. From your scent I can tell you are still a tom."

Rocky glanced up to meet Redstar's gaze. "Still a tom?" he echoed.

"Yes, still a tom." Redstar answered. "You have not gone to the Cutter yet, which will make you a much different cat. You will never be the same again. If you choose the life of a warrior, you will stay a tom forever."

Questions burned in Rocky's mind. Still a tom? What was a Cutter? Should he go with the Clan cats, much less believe a word coming out of their jaws?

"It is up to you to decide." Redstar said finally. "No one can make the decision for you. But you will not have to decide now. I will send Snowheart to meet you here tomorrow at sunhigh. You will give him your answer then." Redstar flicked his tail, and the Clan cats stood up. "We must leave now!" Redstar ordered. "The other warriors will be wondering what has become of us." With a last flick of his tail, the Clan cats disappeared into the forest.

Rocky's head was spinning and his mind buzzing. Rocky whipped around, and staggered towards home. Should he accept the offer? Redstar was offering the life he had lived so many times in his dreams. Was that a good thing? Rocky shivered at the thought of his dream earlier that night. It still haunted his thoughts. It pained him to think about it, but not as much as the gash that ran down his leg. That was also the doing of the dream world. Tiredly, he collapsed in a heap at the base of the peach tree in his yard. The sun's early morning rays were already streaking through the dove colored sky. Rocky glanced up sleepily, only to crash back into a deep sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Rocky was dreaming again. Bristling at the thought of another battle, Rocky whirled around wildly. Snapping and hissing at the silent air. When nothing attacked him, Rocky forced his fur to lie flat, but was on full alert. A loud warning yowl cracked the silence. When a cat leapt out at him, Rocky was ready for it. Leaping out of the way, Rocky swiped viciously at his attacker. Dust flew as Rocky skidded to a halt, ready for the next blow. He glanced back to see gleaming cat eyes. The warrior cats had entered his dream world. Eager to prove to the Clan cats, Rocky leapt at his tormenter again, his claws outstretched, and his teeth bared. He let out a final yowl as he saw the terror in his attacker's eyes.

Rocky jolted awake, panting, this time not in exhaustion. Rocky glanced at his leg. It still bore the wound from the night before. It looked as if it was healing. Rocky could spell no new blood. Stretching his other legs, then his wounded one gentler, he shook his fur, and loped outside. The late morning sun felt good on his fur.

Suddenly he became aware of the sun's position. It was almost noon! Rocky made himself sit down and gave himself a thorough grooming, not leaving a tuft out of place. By the time he was finished, he was sure he was going to be late to meet Snowheart, the white tom with Redstar last night. Crawling through the white fence, Rocky cantered into the forest.

"Rocky, where are you going?"

Rocky whirled around to see Prince watching him from his fence. He was a solid white tom, whose long fur was always perfectly groomed. His light green eyes were narrowed and questioning.

"Long story," panted Rocky, eager to be on his way.

"I have time," Prince said easily, licking a paw and drawing it over his face.

"But I don't!" Rocky said impatiently. "I went into the forest last night."

"What? The forest? And you're still alive?" Prince gasped.

"Yes, now stop interrupting me!" Rocky growled. Prince clamped his jaws shut.

"I met a few of the wild cats," Rocky went on hastily. "They want me to join their Clan."

Prince let out another gasp. "Are you going?" he whined.

"Yes, I'm going, Prince," Rocky answered.

"But who will I play with?" Prince wailed.

"There's George," Rocky pointed out, glancing up at the sun. He was losing time.

"But he's been so lazy, ever since he went to the vet," Prince grumbled.

"It's okay, Prince," Rocky mewed, nuzzling his friend. "You'll make new friends."

Prince backed away. "I guess there's no stopping you," he grumbled. "Good bye, Rocky. I won't forget you even if you do."

"I won't forget you, silly," Rocky purred. "I've got to go. Bye, Prince!"

"Take care, Rocky!" Prince called over his shoulder, before jumping nimbly from his fence.

Rocky whirled around, and crashed through the forest, stubbornly trying to keep his mind off the searing pain in his hindquarters. Now panting with effort, he reached the clearing in which held the fateful encounter with the Clan cats. Rocky felt the sunshine warm his fur. The clearing looked entirely different in the daytime.

Rocky sniffed the air hastily. Were they still here? Or had they left, thinking Rocky had refused their offer? Rocky could smell the old, musty scents of Flintpaw, Hawkpaw, and Redstar from last night. But one smell stood out.

"A warrior always knows when another cat is near. That is a lesson you must learn quickly if you are to join us."

Rocky whipped around to see a large thick furred white tom padding out of a shrub. The sunlight shone on his pelt, making it shine.

"Snowheart," Rocky identified, hoping he had remembered the name properly.

Snowheart nodded. "Do you notice anything else? Is there anyone with me?"

"Redstar and Flintpaw aren't with you this time," Rocky replied promptly. "Oh, and Hawkpaw isn't here either." Rocky glanced at Snowheart hopefully. Was that approval in his dark blue eyes?

"Take another sniff," growled Snowheart.

Hastily, Rocky let all the scents sink into his mind. "There's another cat with you," Rocky pronounced proudly. Snowheart twitched his tail, and an equally large long furred gray tom crawled out of the same bush.

"This is Graystorm," Snowheart introduced. Rocky bowed his head low to the ground, respectfully allowing Graystorm to sniff him curiously.

"Hello, young one," the large gray tom whispered, his warm eyes the color of sand. "I've heard much about you."

"Have you made your decision?" Snowheart asked impatiently.

Rocky nodded hesitantly. "I would like to accept Redstar's offer," he whispered.

"Good, good," Graystorm purred. "Snowheart was sure you wouldn't come."

"We had turned around to go back to camp until I picked up your scent," growled Snowheart. Rocky ducked his head shamefully.

Graystorm flicked his tail, and the two warriors plunged into the forest without warning. Rocky jerked his head up, and pounded after them, clenching his teeth against the pain in his leg. The two older warriors led him into ditches and over fallen trees, which they bounded over swiftly in one giant leap. Rocky on the other hand, had to scramble over paw by paw, forcing himself to use his injured leg. Next, they approached a deep puddle of water, which they waded into without hesitation. Rocky bristled, but plunged in after them, refusing to show any weakness. The murky water stung his wound, and lapped uncomfortably at his chest fur. Rocky huffed, wondering if he would have enough patience to ignore a tree falling on his head.

"What do you sense?" Snowheart asked gruffly. Rocky bristled, looking around frantically, straining his ears and eyes to pick up any sign of life.

"We are so close to camp, you must smell something!" Graystorm said, lashing his tail. Rocky took a deep breath until he felt his head was filled with forest air. He now had a few scents other than his own.

"I can smell them! I can smell other cats." Rocky announced loudly. Graystorm's whiskers twitched in amusement, while Snowheart lashed his tail impatiently.

"Finally! With those blunt senses the prey will have visited camp and gone back to their burrows before you realize they are there!" Snowheart spat angrily.

Rocky noticed Graystorm had shot Snowheart a quizzical glance. Snowheart flicked his ears impatiently, twitching his tail tip."

"You will soon be able to name each scent if you are accepted into the Clan," Graystorm said. Graystorm's gentle low rasping mew was like cool water to Snowheart's heated tone. Rocky nodded enthusiastically.

"We're here," Graystorm said, slowing to a slow trot as he padded through a thick thorn barrier. Rocky followed, feeling the well trodden sandy path under his pads. Coming out of the thorn barrier, Rocky knew he had never seen so many cats in one place.

"It's sunhigh, so a lot of cats are sharing tounges," Snowheart said.

"Sharing tounges?" Rocky echoed, confused.

"Sharing news, and swapping rumors," Graystorm explained. Rocky thought he saw the gray tom's whiskers twitch in amusement. Then he looked away sharply, pricking his ears, and lifting his tail. "Redstar is here," he announced.

Rocky sniffed the air, and was pleased to find that he recognized the leader's scent. Rocky watched as the small red-brown tom appeared from behind a curtain of lichen, padding toward them quickly. Snowheart and Graystorm dipped their heads in respect. Rocky quickly copied them. Redstar nodded in acknowledgement.

"So?" he asked impatiently. "What do you think?"

"He kept up well, despite his puny size," Snowheart allowed.

"And his wound," Graystorm added.

Redstar looked at Rocky intently, nodding. "So it's decided?" he asked his warriors. The two warriors nodded, Graystorm more certainly than Snowheart. Redstar bounded across the clearing, galloping easily up to the tip of a large boulder. It was leaning against another smaller boulder that was under it, which made it even taller. Rocky's heart began to race again. What was going to happen? Was Redstar going to send him away in humiliation, in front of the whole Clan? He tried to catch Redstar's gaze, and at first, failed. Then, the majestic cat tilted his head, ever so unnoticeably. This made Rocky even more frightened, now. He couldn't tell what Redstar was thinking. Rocky held back a whimper. _Help me, someone! Please…_


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"Let all cats join under High Rock for a Clan meeting!" Redstar's deep yowl startled Rocky to the point of jumping. The clearing quickly filled with cats of all shapes, sizes, and colors. They were all murmuring and whispering among themselves, forming a half circle from High Rock, with Rocky in the middle.

"What is he doing here?" one cat wondered.

"What does he want?" another one asked.

Redstar waved his tail commandingly. "ThunderClan needs new warriors," he began. "So it was decided that an outsider would be taken in to become a ThunderClan apprentice."

Indignant whispers erupted from the crowd of cats.

"We already have enough apprentices!" one cat hissed.

"We already have eight!" another meowed.

"Stop complaining!" a cat rasped. It was an old tortoiseshell tom with graying fur. "At least we're being fed!"

Redstar waved his tail again. "I have found a young cat who is willing to become a ThunderClan apprentice."

"Where is he from?" one cat whispered.

"Not from any Clan I know!" another cat hissed.

"Wait!" everyone turned their heads. The yowl came from a strong looking light brown tabby tom. His pale green eyes were leaking fury. "Look at his collar! He's a kittypet!"

Outraged yowls erupted from the crowd.

"That's Nettlepad," Snowheart hissed. Rocky almost jumped with fright. He hadn't realized Snowheart had come to sit with him. He glanced at his other side to see a large gray tom—Graystorm.

"He just became a warrior, too," Graystorm added. "About two moons ago."

"A kittypet can never be a warrior!" Nettlepad yowled. "The prey will run from loud clanging bell, if his stench doesn't scare them off first!" The cats yowled their approval.

Nettlepad opened his jaws widely to continue, but a sleek silver tom with distinct white markings and light blue eyes, waved his tail in front of Nettlepad. The brown warrior, inclined his head, and sat down respectfully. Everyone now turned to look at the new cat.

"That is Silvermask," Snowheart whispered. "Even though he has been a warrior for only three seasons, he is one of the most respected and valued warriors."

"Is it really wise to take in another outsider?" he meowed, loud enough for everyone to hear. "A lot of our young cats are not full-blood ThunderClan already." He looked around at his fellow Clanmates. "We don't need to take in anymore outsiders." The other cats began to whisper among themselves again. Silvermask looked up at Redstar, tilting his head. Redstar nodded, and stood up again. The cats slowly began to quiet down again.

"Silvermask is right," Redstar began. "But also remember that they are skilled warriors, and valued apprentices." There was quiet murmuring, and Redstar looked like he was about to go on, but a blue-silver she-cat stood up, looking at Redstar for permission to speak. Redstar nodded, and then she turned to the rest of the cats.

"Redstar is right," she said. Her mew was a soft mew, and nestled against her was a small kit, that was looking around intently. "Were would we be without these cats? Every ThunderClan cat is important!"

Another she-cat spoke up. It was a silver she-cat with green eyes. "Blueflower is right. What a warrior does every day is what matters the most, not as much as blood. Loyalty is the first code in the Warrior Code." Some cats nodded enthusiastically in agreement, while others will still uncertain of what side to choose. Nettlepad stood up again.

"The other outsiders were different though," he yowled. "This is a filthy kittypet we are dealing with here!" He looked around at his Clanmates before continuing. "Some cats we took in were used to warrior duties. It was as if they were forest-born!" Nettlepad continued. "This stupid kittypet knows nothing. He'll just stuff his face full with all _our _prey!" He paused to glare at Rocky, who did not like where this was going.

"When we go into battle, if we take him, the enemy will be alerted from across the forest!" Nettlepad continued, with more and more cats yowling their approval.

Snowheart bent down to whisper into Rocky's ear. "Every cat smells your fear. You must prove to him and all the other cats that fear will not hold you back." Rocky flattened his ears, wondering if his fear scent was now even stronger.

"Just go back from where you came from!" Nettlepad yowled. "If you don't, the Twolegs will come into our territory to find their lost kitty that fills the forest with his stench!"

"Do you back down from the challenge?" Snowheart hissed. Rocky still stayed still. He was now locating Nettlepad's exact position. He was right behind a small brown tabby tom. He looked like an apprentice, like Flintpaw and Hawkpaw. Baring his teeth, Rocky, crouched down, then exploded through the air, right onto Nettlepad's back.

Nettlepad was totally unprepared for Rocky's attack. He staggered sideways, and fell to the earth with a puff of dust. Desparate to prove himself to the other cats, Rocky unsheathed his claws, and took two deep swipes. He quickly followed by sinking his teeth into Nettlepad's shoulder. They were now in screeching and tumbling around the clearing. The other cats had to leap out of the way to avoid the whirlwind of flying fur.

Nettlepad then flipped Rocky over, throwing him a tail length away. Without a moment's hesitation, Nettlepad leaped onto Rocky, ripping Rocky's skin. Rocky howled in pain. Blood spurted out of Rocky's leg wound, splattering onto Nettlepad's face. A searing pain erupted in Rocky's leg. Rocky slashed at Nettlepad recklessly. Rocky then felt the collar around his neck tighten. He now struggled even more frantically. Nettlepad had jerked Rocky by his collar from under him. He was tugging hard. Unable to breathe again, Rocky panicked. He slashed everything of Nettlepad he could see. Every time he moved, the pressure around his neck got worse. Finally, summoning all his strength, Rocky jerked away from Nettlepad. Then, with a loud snap, he was free.

Nettlepad and Rocky tumbled away from each other. Rocky landed hardly on his wounded leg, skidding painfully across the sandy floor. Rusty hazily looked around. Nettlepad was lying three tail lengths away, with Rocky's collar dangling from his mouth.

Redstar immediately jumped down from the High Rock. Rocky and Nettlepad stayed fixed to their spots, gasping for breath. With each breath, Rocky winced. The gash in his leg had reopened and was spilling blood rapidly. A cut on his muzzle stung. Nettlepad's shoulders were bleeding heavily, and he had lost twice as much fur as Rocky. They stared at each other, both waiting for the other's next move.

Redstar took the collar from Nettlepad, and through it in front of him. "This cat has lost his Twoleg collar in a fight for his honor. StarClan has spoken its will. This cat is released from his Twolegs, and is now free to join ThunderClan as an apprentice."

Rocky looked up at Redstar. The leader's amber eyes were filled with approval and pride, and a flicker of hope. Rocky slowly nodded his acceptance. He felt a shaft of sunlight warming his sore muscles. The light blazed brightly on his orange fur, making it glow. He stood up unsteadily, but looked at the cats, his head held proudly. No cat argued or jeered. He had proved that he was a worthy opponent in battle.

Redstar placed the mangled collar in front of Rocky. He touched the young cat gently with his nose. "You look like a blazing fire in this sunlight," he whispered. Rocky heard warmth the older tom's voice. Happiness clouded Rocky's mind as Redstar looked up at the Clan. "I named this young cat Firepaw, in honor of his flame-colored coat!"

"Firepaw, Firepaw, Firepaw!" The Clan now yowled Firepaw's new name loudly. Firepaw felt he would burst with pride. _Firepaw… _His old life was no behind him, and a bright future with the Clans was all he could see.

"Hey, Firepaw!"

"Hi, Firepaw!"

"Welcome, young Firepaw!"

Firepaw knew he could be no happier or prouder at all as he heard the cats that were now his Clanmates congratulating him.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Firepaw almost felt lightheaded as the cats whirled around him, congratulating him, and welcoming him. Actually, wait…He did feel lightheaded! He looked around for Nettlepad. The light brown tabby tom was nowhere to be seen. Firepaw felt a small flicker of fear inside of him. He really wanted his new Clan-mates to like him, that that included Nettlepad. But would the young warriors ever accept Firepaw? _He has to eventually_, Firepaw told himself. _I'm part of the Clan now! _

"Firepaw!"

The orange-furred tom turned around to see Flintpaw padding towards him.

"Hey," Firepaw greeted.

"That was awesome!" Flintpaw yowled. A few older cats turned to glare at him and Firepaw. The orange-furred tom felt embarrassment burn under his pelt. _Oh, no! Have we angered the warriors already?_ Firepaw hadn't even officially been in the Clan for three minutes! Flintpaw, on the other hand, just glanced sideways at the warriors, shooting them a bright-eyed look, and ruffled his pelt. He turned back to Firepaw, completely unfazed.

"Well, then, now that you are officially in the Clan—by the way, I never had a doubt—and, well, we should introduce you to everyone!"

"Everyone?" Firepaw asked in awe.

"Haha, no, not all at once," Flintpaw grinned. "Just a few at a time. Let's start with the apprentices!"

Firepaw followed Flintpaw across the camp. Flintpaw pointed out things along the way, as they went.

"That's the warriors' den," Flintpaw said, as they passed a few large yew berry bushes. It was pretty much empty as far as Firepaw could tell. _All the warriors are probably out on missions and doing important work_, thought Firepaw.

"Oh, and Redstar's den," Flintpaw said, as they passed a pile of boulders. A large crevice was covered in a lichen curtain. "And the medicine cat den." A large crevice, this time in the ravine, opened up, letting the scent of herbs flood into Firepaw's nose. "And the nursery! It's the most protected part of camp, can't you tell? We have to protect our little warriors. They are the Clan's future, after all." Firepaw saw the wisdom in Flintpaw's words. _Wow, are cats were really well organized!_, Firepaw thought. The nursery was protected by thick brambles, and Firepaw thought he could hear mewling from inside.

"The elders' den is in that fallen tree hollow over there," Flintpaw waved his tail. "Now that I think of it, we should so meet them. They are awesome! And they tell amazing stories. Everyone goes to them for advice, because apparently they are like, super wise or something. Even Redstar does it. But we all have to respect them for the time they served their Clan. Anyways, they would love to meet you!"

"Oh, okay," Firepaw said, following Flintpaw across the clearing again. They went inside the den, and were greeted instantly.

"Why, hello, there young Flintpaw," a painfully skinny blue tortoiseshell she-cat said warmly. Her blue eyes were kind and welcoming.

"Who have you brought with you, there?" This cat, completely contrasting to the previous, was stocky, fat, and had droopy, sad eyes. He had gray and white fur, and blue eyes.

"This is Firepaw! He's the newest apprentice!" Flintpaw said, introducing Firepaw. Firepaw bowed respectfully.

"Hello," he said.

"Really, now? He's the newest apprentice?" asked a frail voice. It came from a dark brown tom, all the way in the back. He looked in credibly old, with fur missing in a few spots, and whiskers long and thin. "I'm sorry, but he looks about just as old as you!"

"Were you even at the ceremony, Mudwhisker?" the first blue tortoiseshell she-cat asked in a rebuking tone.

"Oh, yes, well, maybe," Mudwhisker said slowly, as if trying to remember.

"He's new in the Clan," a new cat offered. This cat looked a little younger than the rest of them, still many, many seasons older than Firepaw of course. She had tortoiseshell fur and green eyes. "I'm Spotfur, by the way," the she-cat said, looking affectionately at Firepaw.

"I'm Lavenderfur," the first tortoiseshell she-cat said. "That is Heavyfoot, over there," she said, pointing her tail at the droopy gray and white tom. "That's Rockfur and Shadefur in the back there." She pointed to two stocky toms with dark fur in the back of the den, both with scowls on their faces.

"Yes, he was taken into the Clan," Rockfur said in a deep, throaty growl. "If I remember correctly, which I am sure I do, aren't you a kittypet, young cat?"

Firepaw felt himself freeze up under the old, dark tom's glowering gaze. "Uh….uh….yes…" Firepaw finally choked out.

"Aha!" Shadefur rumbled. "I am sorry, young cat, but I feel that you will be of absolutely no use to the Clan. You have already grown too soft for so long. As Mudwhisker, for once, rightly said, you are as old as Flintpaw here, who had been in the forest for his whole life. His body is prepared and better fit to be a warrior."

Firepaw looked at Shadefur in agony. He remembered Flintpaw saying that the elders were very wise, and even Redstar went to them for advice from time to time. What if Shadefur was right? Was Firepaw wrong to ever come to the Clans? Would he ever fit in like he previously thought he would? Had he endangered the Clan by coming here? Already Firepaw felt this deep connection to the Clan. He didn't know all of the members yet but because he was a part of it, he knew he would die to protect it already. He loved his Clan fiercely for what it was worth and he wouldn't want to weaken it.

"Well, then, I guess we'll be going!" Flintpaw yowled loudly. "I guess we'll be seeing you later!"

At the same time, Lavenderfur cried, "Shadefur! How awful! Dare you frighten this young apprentice?"

"He will do fine," Mudwhisker said feebly. "He's young and strong. He can relearn."

"But how soon?" Shadefur grumbled. "Before the next battle with RiverClan?"

Flintpaw shouldered Firepaw out of the den. The orange tom still felt pretty shaken up about what Shadefur had said. Flintpaw looked at him curiously, as if he sensed Firepaw sudden unease.

"Firepaw…you okay, there, buddy?" Flintpaw asked, a bit awkwardly.

"Sure, Flintpaw," Firepaw said. "Thanks so much for taking me around the camp! I've really met a lot of cats."

"You've only met the elders so far!" Flintpaw said, scoffing. "Sometimes they are old and loony. You have to meeting the apprentices! They will be training with us, after all. Ah, here we go, the apprentices den!"

Flintpaw led Firepaw to a tree stump, where Firepaw would see a few bodies rustling over the soft grass-and-moss-covered floor.

"Hey, everybody, have you met Firepaw yet?" Flintpaw asked, lumbering into the den. Three bodies stirred, and the pairs of eyes bored into Firepaw. A few moments ago, he had been excited to meet new Clan-mates, especially ones his own age. Now he desperately wanted to duck behind Flintpaw.

"Great StarClan, your fear is stinking up the whole den!" one of the cats said in a disapproving voice. It was a golden-furred she-cat with amber eyes. She gazed at Firepaw with disinterest.

Firepaw gulped and didn't reply.

"Well, can you talk?" another cat asked in a mocking tone. It was a white she-cat with bright blue eyes. She leaped from her nest, and approached Firepaw. "I'm Icepaw!"

"I wouldn't be surprised if he can't," a dark voice snarled. Firepaw turned and his gaze was instantly locked with an amber one. It was a brown tabby tom, a little bigger and more muscular than Firepaw.

"Hey, everyone," Firepaw replied, forcing his voice out. He couldn't appear scared any longer! He had to prove to Redstar that he was worthy! "Um, I can talk, for your information. Can't everyone?"

"You're a riot," the first she-cat said sarcastically. Firepaw let the comment slide over his fur. He couldn't take everything to offense just yet. He had to let everyone get used to him.

"Well, that's Hazelpaw, and that's Rowanpaw," Flintpaw said, pointing to the sand-colored she-cat and then the brown tabby tom. "Maybe they woke up in the wrong side of their dens, or something."

"I slept perfectly well, thank you, Flintpaw," Hazelpaw said coldly. "I'm just annoyed that we are cooped up here, and not out there—"

"I hear ya!" Rowanpaw said passionately. Hazelpaw glared at him for interrupting her. He shot her a worried glance, and stuck his nose in her ear, whispering something. She widened her eyes slightly in surprise then narrowed them down to slits. She nodded and Rowanpaw shot Firepaw a nasty look.

"Well, then, um…" Flintpaw said slowly, stalling for something. _Wow_, Firepaw thought. _Even Flintpaw is at a loss for words here! _

"Everyone! Everyone! Look out!"

Firepaw jumped up in fright, his hackles raised to points. The apprentices were all on their toes, poised to spring. An extremely lithe but powerful-looking she-cat burst into the camp, flanks heaving, and green eyes wild. "ShadowClan is attacking!"


End file.
